


Buzz

by kekinkawaii



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kekinkawaii/pseuds/kekinkawaii
Summary: Dean felt the words begging at his lips again, surging up and pressing out, and he bit his tongue to keep them from bursting right over.(Five times Dean tried to ask Cas out and one time it worked.)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 149





	Buzz

**i.**

“Oh my _god,”_ Charlie groaned without lifting her head from the lunch table. “Just _talk_ to him, dumbass.”

Dean said defensively. “I’m trying.”

“Whatever you’re doing, that’s not trying,” Ash said from the other side of the table, pointedly directing one of his French fries at him.

“Ms. Miller, I didn’t write in a single answer for my Chem test today, but I’m _trying!”_ Charlie piped up, putting on a faux-falsetto.

Dean glared. “I am trying,” he enunciated very clearly. “I am trying very hard.”

“Try harder,” Ash supplied.

“Thanks.”

“Here he comes,” Charlie said, voice hushing. Dean stiffened and bent down his head to study his lunch with rapt attention. He felt a light rap to the top of his head and Charlie’s hissed, “Don’t be such a pussy.”

Gritting his teeth, Dean summoned enough courage to look up. He met Ash’s eyes first, his encouraging nod, before flicking his gaze to the aisles, where Castiel had just entered the cafeteria through the wide double-doors and was strolling in, textbooks and binder hugged close to his chest and his attention focused on Anna walking next to him.

Dean’s eyes traced his smile, his eyes, the graceful, uninhibited way he seemed to dodge the students all coalescing around him like a colony of worker bees. Something tumbled in his chest when Castiel, hearing something Anna said, threw back his head and laughed, bright and golden.

“I’m gonna throw up,” Ash murmured. Dean took one second to shoot a scowl at him. “Seriously, how hard is it?” Ash, who had never had a crush in Dean’s four years of knowing him and whom Dean suspected was already in too much of a relationship with his laptop to get invested in another person, objected. “Literally just _talk_ to him.”

“You’ve said that already,” Dean said, “and—surprise!—it’s not an ounce more helpful than it was the first few dozen times.”

“He’s got a point,” Charlie reluctantly added.

“You don’t get it,” Dean said, like a child. “It’s like—it’s like, whenever I _try,_ I just—” He clammed up, voice dying in his throat. “It’s the craziest thing; my voice just—dies off. Like a ghost. Or something.”

“Ooooh,” Charlie said. “How poetic.”

“Shut up.”

“So, you’re saying that he quite literally takes your breath away,” Ash said, and then very unhelpfully picked up his spoon from his lunch tray and pretended to gag himself with it.

Dean upped his glare and opened his mouth to retort when Charlie’s elbow to his side drew him back. “He’s coming this way!” she said, also very unhelpfully—Dean had eyes, thank you very much. “C’mon, Dean, this is your chance!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered, losing steam by the second. Yeah, this was his chance—so was the time before. And the time before that. Maybe he could just give up. Bitter acceptance might feel better than this purgatory. He aimlessly traced circular shapes onto the desk, keeping his eyes trained downwards whilst finetuning all of his senses to the boy heading his way.

“—and my aunt’s boyfriend is a beekeeper, so she agreed to let me visit the farm.” Castiel’s voice was more animated than normal as he passed, evidently excited. “I’ll be able to observe them from an unobstructed view.”

“That’s great, Cas,” Anna said. “Are you going solo?”

“I presume so,” Castiel responded, slightly subdued, now, and Dean felt a tugging in his chest. “No one asked me.”

“They’re just intimidated by you,” Anna reasoned.

Castiel snorted softly. “That’s ridiculous, Anna. Why would they be?”

“Oh, all kinds of reasons,” Anna said, and that was all Dean heard before they passed out of hearing range.

All kinds of reasons indeed, Dean thought glumly, finally raising his head to watch the two of them head towards the other side of the room before sitting down.

Charlie’s voice drew him out of his sulk. “What the hell was that?!” she hissed.

“What was what,” Dean said.

“You didn’t even _try_ that time!”

“They were talking,” Dean protested. “I didn’t want to interrupt. That would’ve been rude.”

“Bullshit,” Ash said through a round of fake-coughing.

“Dean Winchester,” Anna proclaimed, “you are a sad, sad man.”

Dean sighed.

**ii.**

Third-period English was easily the best and worst seventy-five minutes of Dean’s school day.

Best: he sat next to Castiel.

Worst: he sat next to Castiel.

When Castiel heard Dean approach, he looked up from his book (he was one of the few people Dean knew who still read books for fun, rather than for school, and it was inexplicably, unexplainably, extremely attractive, and he didn’t know if it was because Dean was secretly a closeted literature slut or if it was just Castiel). “Hello, Dean,” he said, and smiled, and Dean thought, _Oh, god._

“Hey, Cas,” he said, and cleared his throat. “How’s the book?”

“Decent,” Castiel said. “The exposition was a little meandering and the plot points were perhaps slightly repetitive, but the overall atmosphere is enjoyable.”

“Awesome,” Dean said, feeling clunky with his words the way he always did when he was around Castiel, like he was trying to juggle them all on a unicycle. “I’m glad it’s good.”

Castiel gave Dean another small smile, and Dean felt the words begging at his lips again, surging up and pressing out, and he bit his tongue to keep them from bursting right over. He was almost thankful when the teacher entered the classroom and began to drone about _King Lear_ for an hour, until words began to swim across Dean’s field of vision.

When the class ended, Dean meandered in packing up his stuff, hyperaware of Castiel’s quiet humming as he meticulously tucked away each and every one of his pens.

As he bent over to retrieve a fallen eraser, Dean suddenly felt a pinch on his shoulder. He looked up just in time to see Charlie’s wide eyes and exaggerated gesturing before she was lost in the flurry of students and pushed out the door. _Ask him!_

“Jesus,” Dean murmured, distressed.

“What’s wrong?”

Shit. He hadn’t meant to speak out loud. “Nothing,” Dean said, and then saw Charlie waving her arms frantically through the window in the halls. “Actually, uh.”

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel said, when Dean failed to add on to that for a few seconds.

“Do you—” Dean’s palms were tingling. Heat streaked across his neck like a firebolt. “Would you like to, um. Do you want to—” Instinctively, he looked at Castiel; saw his dark blue eyes staring right back at him like a strike of lightning.

“The biology project,” Dean suddenly blurted. “Do you want to be partners?”

Castiel blinked. “You want to be partners with me?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. Helplessly.

“Oh,” Castiel said. Softly.

“I mean,” Dean said, furiously backtracking, “it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, I mean, I know I’m probably not the best at biology and you’re kind of top of the class, and it’s just that—”

He clamped his mouth shut like a bear trap set loose when Castiel reached out and touched his shoulder.

“I’m doing a project on the adaptivity of bees,” Castiel said. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, barely a breath.

“I’m going to a beekeeping farm for observations,” Castiel continued. “You might get stung. Would you be okay with that?”

“Yeah,” Dean said again.

“Great.” Castiel smiled. “In that case, I’d love to be partners.”

“Awesome,” Dean said, still trying to catch up to the conversation.

“We can work on the specifics more in class. See you then, Dean.” And with that and a light squeeze of Dean’s shoulder, Castiel was gone.

Dean watched him go, and then said, “Holy shit,” and looked out the window to see Charlie in the halls, gesticulating so hard her limbs were blurred.

As he got up to leave, he felt a smile spread across his face—slow, at first, then splitting.

**iii.**

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

(This time. This time, for sure.)

“Do you want to, um.”

“Want to what?”

“... Pass me that gel pen for a sec?”

“Oh, yes. Sure.”

(Damn it.)

**iv.**

“She didn’t have enough beekeeper suits in our size,” Castiel explained, “so we’ll need to go without, but it should be alright as long as we keep a reasonable distance, and don’t excessively bother them. All I need are a few shots of the manmade hive, maybe from a few different angles, for now.”

“Gotcha,” said Dean, fumbling for his phone and thumbing open the camera app. “Just let me know when.” He pressed start, then directed his phone towards the (alarmingly-loud) buzzing of the weird-looking hives. He’d never actually been to a bee farm before, so it was all very interesting, but Dean was sure he’d find it much more riveting if Castiel wasn’t there sucking all of Dean’s attention like a spiralling black hole.

“Let me see,” Castiel said, and all of a sudden he was _right there_ in Dean’s space—inches away, head tilted to look at Dean’s phone, face so close Dean went cross-eyed and saw his slightly-pursed lips, tongue sticking out from the corner in concentration. “That’s good. A little closer, maybe—try getting the top of the hive for a bird’s-eye view.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, trying not to breathe too loudly or speak too loudly or move a single muscle in his body.

“You’re welcome,” Castiel said.

Dean thought of the pep talk over text Charlie had spammed him with before the car ride here. He thought of the ghost words, all of them, dissipating in the air when he tried to breathe them out. “Cas, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

Castiel was standing so, so close. Dean could see the flecks of lighter blue in his eyes, like sun rays reflecting off of the sea.

“Is this a good enough camera angle?” Dean said, and heard Charlie’s exasperated yell from inside his own head. 

“Hm,” Castiel said. “A bit more downwards—here, like this.” Castiel’s hands came up to clasp themselves over Dean’s, helping him guide the phone.

“Your hands are trembling,” Castiel commented. “The footage will be shaky.”

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled. “It’s the, ah. The bees.”

“The what?” Castiel frowned. “You told me you were okay with them.”

“I am,” Dean said.

“But you’re scared of them now?” Castiel sounded worried. “Dean, if you don’t feel comfortable with this, you don’t have to do it.”

“No!” Dean yelped. “I want to, I swear. I just, well. It’s kind of different in reality, you know? Like, I think it won’t be that bad, it won’t be that scary, I should just go ahead and do it, but then when the time actually comes I just—clam up.” Okay, so maybe he wasn’t really talking about the bees anymore.

Castiel regarded Dean for a moment. “That’s understandable,” he finally said. “But, Dean, if you don’t face your fears, how will you ever conquer them? If you’ve already made peace with the idea in your mind, what’s the worst that will happen?” He took his hands off of Dean’s, apparently satisfied. “You might get stung, sure, but you’ll always heal.”

“Huh,” Dean said. “You know what, Cas? That’s some pretty damn good advice.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said. Dean let his eyes wander away from the screen of buzzing bees to smile at him.

**v.**

It took them twenty minutes to reach the last hive.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean said, right after he took a step closer and angled the shot from a higher vantage point. There was something buzzing between the two of them, building higher, their eyes and their smiles and fleeting touches, something more than the bees, and Dean thought, _This time._

“Yes, Dean?”

“Would you—I mean, would I—”

Dean’s hand was cramping up from all the nerves. He held his phone with only one hand as he shook the other out; felt something small and firm strike his hand and, from years of football drills, instinctively closed his palm to trap the object.

“Would I what?” Castiel said.

“Do you want to— _fuck!”_ Dean hollered, feeling a sharp stabbing sensation right in the centre of his palm.

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Dean took several steps back, away from the hive, shaking out his hand like it was on fire. He raised his hand in front of his face and gazed at the small, reddening welt on his palm. “I got stung,” he said.

“Oh,” Castiel said, then, “You’ll heal. Also, yes, I would love to go out with you.”

 _“Fuck_ yes,” Dean said, and then, “Wait, did I even ask?”

Castiel tilted his head. “Let’s say yes,” he finally said. 

Dean just stared.

“You’re not very subtle,” Castiel added.

Abruptly, feeling stunned and giddy and a little bit dizzy, Dean burst out laughing.

**+1**

“And _that’s_ how I found out I was allergic to bee stings.”

Charlie squealed. “No way! That’s totally adorable!”

Dean gave Charlie a hard look. “I had to go to the hospital, Charlie.”

“I bet Cas held your hand the whole way there, you sap.” Charlie waggled her eyebrows. Dean blushed. Charlie’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling. “No way.”

“Ah, young love,” Ash said nostalgically from across the lunch table.

“You’re younger than me, idiot,” Dean said.

“Just physically,” Ash said. “You don’t see me going all gooey, now.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at your laptop when it’s fully charged.”

Charlie snorted and Ash rolled his eyes. 

“But you did it!” Charlie added. “I’m so proud of you!”

“No ghost-voice this time?” Ash said sardonically.

“Nope!” Dean said.

“Well, actually,” a new voice piped up from behind him. “That’s not entirely accurate.” Dean felt someone slide onto the bench next to him, a familiar warmth by his side.

“Cas!” Charlie said. “The celebrity arrives!”

Castiel gave Dean an amused stare. “You’ve spoken to them about me?”

“Oh, no,” Dean said, the same time Charlie went, “Oh, _yes.”_

“And we’re leaving,” Dean said, standing up. Castiel’s hand shot up and grabbed Dean’s, pulling him back down.

“If it’s about me, I think I deserve to hear it, don’t I, Dean?”

Dean levelled a helpless look at the table before registering the teasing tone in Castiel’s voice. “God,” he muttered, “You’re going to think I’m such a creep.”

“Don’t be,” Castiel said. “If you heard the things I’ve said about you to Anna…” He grinned at Dean’s disbelief, and leaned in to kiss it off him.

There was a wolf whistle from Ash. Dean ignored it. 

“So, you two are official now?” Charlie said after they parted.

“What do you think, Dean?” Castiel murmured. “I don’t think you’ve properly asked me yet.”

Dean sighed, long, low, and sweet. “Cas,” he said, “would you like to go out with me?”

“I would like nothing more,” Castiel said, and Dean, smiling, tilted his head up for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of sleeping. I like to think that my constant fics about normal socialization and ample fluff is a double dose of self-indulgence. Let me know if you enjoyed this and validate my late-night decisions :D
> 
> Love you all <3


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